When Sparks Fly
by Amles80
Summary: Gisela, who is feeling a bit low, overhears some maids discuss Her Majesty Cecilie's stormy love life. *pre-war fic, no slash, references to het pairings*


"I have to go", Suzanna Julia said and gave Gisela a quick hug. "See you later!"

Gisela smiled, like she always did when Julia said 'see you', because it sounded funny even after Julia had explained to her that she felt as if she could 'see' with her heart.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Gisela asked, unwilling to part with her friend.

"Oh, I'm quite sure", Julia replied with a sweet smile, "I can find my way. And knowing Adelbert, I'm sure he's coming out to meet me anyway."

That was true, Gisela supposed, and she watched her friend leave to meet her fiancé. Julia moved so gracefully; nobody could tell by her way of walking that she couldn't see where she put her feet.

_Julia is so beautiful and sweet and nobody deserves to be loved more than she does._

That's what Gisela told herself every so often, she repeated the fact whenever she felt something heavy and dark lurking in a corner of her mind – not every day, not even every week, but sometimes when she watched Julia leave like that…

Gisela was happy for Julia's sake, of course she was, but could she be blamed for feeling left behind when it was literally _left behind_ that she was? Not that she would have wanted to hang out with the happy couple anyway; the only thing worse than being left behind, in her opinion, was spending time with people who only had eyes for each other but were too polite to say that they wished to be left alone.

_I should get back to work_, she tried to tell herself as she left the small pavilion where she had eaten lunch with the other healer.

Gisela didn't go back. She didn't _feel like it_. It was childish, of course, but sometimes she just couldn't help it. She wanted to have somebody to go to, somebody who was waiting for her, somebody who opened their arms to embrace her and looked at her as if she was the only person in the world who mattered at all. What would it be like to have all that? What was it like to be touched by somebody, a lover? Not somebody like Adelbert von Granz (she admitted to herself that, having a pair of seeing eyes, she wasn't nearly as skilled at seeing with her heart as her friend was, and he so wasn't her type) but… just somebody…

This 'somebody', she felt, would be hard to find. _Everybody likes Julia_, she thought, _von Grantz is crazy about her and Conrad Weller would walk through fire for her, even my father compliments me on having such a wonderful friend… That's true, I'm lucky, but… nobody likes me! They respect me, though… but…_

Gisela could feel her mood darken with every step she took. She knew that self-pity was despicable but for once she didn't care. She was kicking her toes in the gravelled path as she walked and watched the pebbles collide with each other in small clouds of dust.

_I'm grumpy and harsh_, she judged herself, _and only ever sweet with the wounded and with Julia. Not the kind of person anyone would even consider falling in love with, or even fooling around with…_

Out of nowhere, hot and stingy tears suddenly invaded her eyes and made her shiver, even though it was a very fine, warm day. Gisela took a deep breath and tried to force them away; she did not want to think about it, about how lonely she felt, especially when she knew that Julia was with her fiancé.

_Why does she have to rub it in my face like that_, she thought, even though she knew she was unfair. Julia would be heartbroken if she knew that her happiness made Gisela feel left out; it was wrong to feel that way and Gisela was ashamed of herself for letting such thoughts out in the open.

She found a stone bench in the shadow of a huge lilac bush and sat down to try to collect her thoughts and make the sudden darkness disappear, and then she heard voices on the other side of the bush.

A few maids were talking, no doubt choosing the sunny side for their break because they spent their days working inside. She imagined how they turned their heads towards the sun like little flowers in a flowerbed in a corner where the sun didn't reach them for most of the day. No wonder their voices were so cheerful.

Gisela began to listen to their conversation to get a distraction from her own not-so-cheerful thoughts.

"You know", said one girl, "I have never seen Lord von Bielefelt before; I just can't get over how handsome he is! Is he as great a man as he looks like? The Maou is such a lucky woman, don't you agree?"

_That must be one of the new scullery maids_, Gisela thought, and the woman who answered, Pamela, proved her right.

"Oh, little Doria, what's your definition of 'lucky'? Wouldn't you rather have a partner who lived with you instead of one who comes and goes as he pleases, like some stray dog?"

Another girl hushed at her, but Pamela just laughed, clearly thinking that no one who mattered could hear them. _And I suppose she's right about that_, Gisela thought, because while she wasn't a servant but the daughter of a noble, she still didn't really 'matter', did she?

"But she must be happy whenever he comes to see her and young Master Wolfram", Doria insisted.

"I'll tell you what it's like", Pamela said with a wise and experienced tone of voice; she had been serving at the castle for a very long time and had probably seen and heard a little bit of everything. "He usually smiles and says something like this when he arrives: 'My little Chérie, have you missed me? Why are your eyes so dark as a deep forest in a storm, where is the sweet _Welcome home, my Lord and Master_ that I have been dreaming about?' and then _she_ says something like: 'I'll show you _storms_, you bastard!'"

Gisela chuckled silently, because Pamela was a pretty good impersonator and did both of their voices very well.

"Oh", Doria said, "why does she talk to him like that?"

"Well", the older said, "like I said, he comes and goes. The queen doesn't like that she can't control him, and if you ask me, I doubt that he has been faithful to her since before the little prince was born – that is, a very long time ago."

"That's just awful!" the third girl behind the bush exclaimed, and Pamela hummed.

"She always scolds him for not being there for Master Wolfram, that's for sure. All he has to say about it is that one shouldn't dote on the kids too much for it makes them weak; _his_ father never spent a lot of time with him until he was old enough to be of importance, and it never did him any damage, he says."

"Poor Master Wolfram", Doria sighed.

"Spoiled rotten by one parent", said The Third, "and ignored by the other. No wonder he's such a brat."

"Not like his older brothers", Pamela agreed and sighed, but Gisela wasn't fooled. She had seen the older woman give Wolfram sweets between meals more than once…

"But I thought Lord von Bielefelt was such a great man!" Doria returned to the first topic. "I do feel sorry for Her Majesty. But he _is_ the most handsome man I've ever seen!"

"Who knows what Her Majesty really feels for him. All I know is that I've rarely seen a couple less suited for each other – they argued even on their wedding day. Not in the same way as they argue now, but you see, the two of them always were bickering. I think she found it charming, at first. _She_ is a seductress and _he_ is a seducer; sparks flew when they met, he was used to being able to charm his way into any woman's bed, and she was fiercely determined not to give in so easily. I always knew it wouldn't end well."

"You sure know a lot", Doria said admiringly. "I haven't gotten close to him…"

"If you take my advice", The Third said, "you'll keep a safe distance! Right, Pamela?"

Pamela agreed, and so did Gisela. Lord von Bielefelt didn't come to Blood Pledge Castle very often, and one would think that he didn't have eyes for anyone but Queen Cecilie when he did, but she had overheard maids talking about him before, talking about him as if they knew him quite _intimately_… Rumor had it that he had even tried to seduce Lady Anissina once, but that she had kicked him where it _hurt_. Anissina herself refused to talk about it.

"Anyway", Doria said, "I'm sure you're mistaken about _something_, Pamela. You say you knew it wouldn't end well, but it hasn't ended yet, and Master Wolfram is, what, around fifty years old? So they've been together for awhile."

"Hm", Pamela sniffed. "If you call it 'being together', the way the two of them do it… But maybe you're right; maybe that's the way she likes it. Maybe they think it's fun to disagree about everything and bicker all the time. It's true that there comes a time – as if they're following some rules of a game – when his _fighting_ turns to teasing, and he does everything to make her laugh, and she pretends that he isn't funny _at all_, but eventually, she _does_ smile…"

"There you go!" Doria said triumphantly and Gisela shook her head in amazement. The girl seemed _very_ determined to find something to like about the man. But _she_ had never felt that someone like Lord von Bielefelt would be the man for _her_.

"Well, I have to say", Pamela said, "that if you ask _me_, I never had anything against Lord Weller, even if he was a human, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. He treaded her right, that's what he did…"

Gisela had never met the queen's human consort, but judging by the way the son seemed to have turned out – not that she knew him that well, but she trusted Julia's judgement – it was easy to believe that the man had been a decent guy.

"But he left", the third girl pointed out, "and he only returned from time to time to see his son. That's why she got involved with Lord von Bielefelt, right?"

"Nobody is perfect", Pamela said, "and humans are different, after all… Their love was always doomed from the very beginning. I suppose he didn't want her to watch him too closely when he grew older. And he always was a good father to Master Conrad."

"What was Master Gwendal's father like?" Doria asked, and Gisela's ears perked up. That was something she had never heard anything about.

"You should call him 'Lord von Voltaire'", Pamela corrected, "it is not appropriate to address him the same way as his younger brothers. And his father who was Lord von Voltaire before him, well, there, Doria, you have a good man, if ever there was one. He was noble by birth and in conduct and it was such a tragedy that he had to die so young. And neither he nor Lord Weller ever laid their hands on the queen unless it was to carry her off to a bed of roses, that's what I think. I'd be willing to bet my last penny on it."

"Wait, are you saying that Lord von Bielefelt _beats her_?!"

Doria sounded shocked and for once, Gisela had to agree with her reaction.

But Pamela soon reassured them, "No, that wasn't what I meant. I'm just saying that he appears to be a bit… brusque, that's all. I've seen him chase her like a predator, grab her and pin her to the wall and look absolutely _dangerous_, saying things I won't repeat…"

"That sounds wonderful", Doria sighed. "If I were her, I'd just… just…"

"You'd just swoon like the little fool that you are", Pamela snorted, "and that means you'd be no fun at all, in his eyes. Just another easy conquest, easily forgotten. Why do you think he comes back to her? It's not because she melts like an ice-cube in the sun, it's because she wriggles loose and pins _him_ down and makes him struggle for it, that's why. She can't control him, he can't dominate her; like I said, sparks fly, hard and quick. All the way to the royal bedchamber."

"And I daresay they manage to make a truce somewhere between that point and the morning", the third woman added, "because when I bring the queen breakfast in bed, I find him snoring soundly and she looks radiant and happy. I guess it only lasts until he wakes up…"

"Hmm…" Doria said thoughtfully. "I think she really does love him, though…"

"Well, say what you want", Pamela said and there was the sound of feet scraping against gravel as if she was standing up, "but I've never liked him and I bet that the late Lord von Voltaire was really her one true love. Come on now, girls. Time to get back to work!"

"I don't know about that", said the third maid, and now Gisela was dying to get up and see who she was, "I'd bet on the human, Dan Hiri Weller. I mean, there's something about the allure of the forbidden, you know…"

The three maids were still debating Queen Cecilie's love life when they walked away. Gisela decided her break was over as well. She almost wanted to run after the women and thank them. Compared to how complicated the queen's love life had been and still was, she was beginning to think that perhaps no love life at all was to be preferred…


End file.
